The Adventures of Little Clark, Part II
by Centralia Currie
Summary: Jonathan and Martha's little toddler has even more surprises in store for his parents...including super speed. The sequel to "The Adventures of Little Clark."
1. Strange Men Take Maamaa

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Smallville or its characters.

**Author's Note**: I wanted to continue toddler Clark's adventures by writing a story about his parents discovering Clark's super speed. This is my effort. (By the way, I recently ended up in the hospital with what doctors thought was appendicitis, so I thought that was how I'd begin…)

* * *

It was turning into a very tense week in the Kent household. First Jonathan had come down with a cold- which didn't stop him from working, it just made him irritable and cranky- and now Martha was being taken to the hospital with appendicitis.

Martha's appendix attack was very sudden. Earlier in the evening, she had gone to bed immediately after dinner, feeling nauseous. She had slept soundly for a couple of hours until about midnight, when she had awoken holding her side in pain, vomiting, and running a fever. Jonathan had recognized her symptoms immediately and had called an ambulance; the hardest part of the whole ordeal was prying three-year-old Clark away from his mother as the paramedics were lifting Martha onto the stretcher.

"Now, Clark, honey, Mommy's sick. Let the nice paramedics take her to the hospital, okay?" Jonathan was trying to unclasp Clark's arms from his mother's legs, but to no avail.

"Mommy loves you, Clark, but I really need to go to the hospital to get better. I'll be home as soon as I can, I promise," Martha said quietly as a paramedic applied a cold compress to her forehead.

"It's all right, sport. Your mother is going to be all right," another paramedic smiled at Clark. "Just let go of her. We promise she'll be fine."

"NO TAKE MAAMAA!" Clark yelled, tears running down his cheeks. He clasped his arms tighter around his mother's legs. The toddler was Jonathan and Martha's adopted son, and was still struggling to speak English.

The second paramedic sighed. "Sir, your wife's appendix is going to rupture. We need to get her to the hospital."

Jonathan knew that with his son's strength, he couldn't possibly lift his son off of his mother. "Clark Kent, you let go of your mother _right now_," Jonathan demanded. "You're being a _very bad boy_!"

Clark didn't like being told he was a bad boy, and finally let go. He sat on his parents' bedroom floor, bawling. Jonathan clasped his arms around his son, lifted him up, and hugged him tightly. "Clark, let's pack your diaper bag," Jonathan told his son calmly. "We'll go to the hospital in Daddy's truck, and we'll be there for Mommy when she gets out of surgery, okay?"

Tears continued to run down Clark's cheeks. He watched solemnly as two strange men carried his mother down the stairs in a stretcher.

Life was so unfair.

* * *

Having Martha in the hospital was almost too much for Jonathan to bear. He was used to his wife cooking for him and keeping Clark out of his way as he worked on the farm. Hearing the sound of her knitting needles as he walked into the house after a long day was a comfort in and of itself. But now Martha was knitting in her hospital bed—she hoped to finish a sweater for Clark, considering there was nothing else to do in the hospital except sleep—and Jonathan was stuck looking after Clark and doing all of the household chores.

"Clark need eat," Clark said in a sad voice after his evening bath one night. He was used to eating some of his mother's homemade cookies before bed, and hadn't tasted them in several days.

"I know, Clark. I know you usually eat cookies after bathtime. But Mommy's still in the hospital. Can't you eat some of the cookies Daadaa brought home from the Beanery?"

"Maamaa give Clark his eat!" Clark cried. His grammar was by no means perfect, but Jonathan knew what his son was trying to say: Mommy usually baked cookies herself and gave them to Clark before his bedtime. This whole notion of Daddy feeding him store-bought cookies didn't sit well with Clark.

"Son, Mommy's not here. She's sick. She'll be home in a day or two." Jonathan helped Clark with his pajama top and gave him a hug. "Daddy misses her too. It's hard, I know."

Clark gave a helpless sigh. It was just about the saddest thing Jonathan had ever heard.

Jonathan smiled. "Cheer up, son. When Mommy comes home, you can help Daddy take care of her. You can serve her breakfast in bed, okay?" He kissed Clark's nose.

Clark blinked and smiled at his father. "'Kay, Daadaa. Clark care Maamaa."

"Yep, Clark can care for Maamaa." Jonathan ran a towel through his son's hair. "Maamaa's going to kill us when she finds out we've had leftovers and takeout pizza all week, anyway. Let's eat all of the cookies before she finds out Daadaa brought them home."


	2. Clark Fetches a Blankie

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Smallville or its characters.

**Author's Note**: I wanted to continue toddler Clark's adventures by writing a story about his parents discovering Clark's super speed. This is my effort.

* * *

Jonathan pulled a fresh nightgown over his wife's shoulders, and helped her into bed. Martha Kent had arrived home from the hospital, with a surgical scar on her abdomen and a couple canisters full of prescription pills.

"You heard the doctor, Martha. You're to take it easy for the next couple of days. In this house, that means no leaving bed. You're going to stay in bed until you're better," Jonathan said soothingly.

Martha nodded. "What are you going to do for dinner? You've been eating takeout pizza all week, haven't you?"

"Well, I want to introduce Clark to different kinds of foods, so I thought pizza would be-"

Martha sighed. "Jonathan. In the refrigerator there's some tomato sauce. Put the sauce in a pan and put the pan on the stove. When the sauce starts to boil, it's done. And then there's some spaghetti in the pantry. Put some in boiling water, and let it cook for about ten minutes or so."

"Martha, don't worry about our meals. We'll survive, even if I can't cook. I want you to focus on getting better. Right now you're exhausted, and you're getting over a serious infection. I want you to sleep." Jonathan kissed Martha's forehead, then looked over his shoulder and laughed. "Oh, and look. Here comes someone to keep you company."

Just two hours ago, Jonathan had changed Clark into his shirt and jeans, fed him breakfast, combed his hair, and made his bed. Now Clark came trailing into his parents' room, wearing a set of pajamas that he had grabbed out of the laundry basket. He was carrying a pillow under his right arm and dragging a bunch of blankets under his left. "Clark slee Maamaa," he announced happily.

Jonathan laughed. "Son, did you get dressed in the dark? Look, your pants are inside out, and your top isn't even on right!" He reached out to Clark to try to straighten his pajamas, but Clark squealed and took a few steps back.

"No, Daadaa! Clark's jammies good!" he exclaimed as he climbed into bed beside his mother. He curled up right next to Martha, plopping his pillow down right beside hers. "Clark slee Maamaa. Niii, Daadaa!"

"He's been missing you," Jonathan explained to his wife. "Napping with you will make him very happy."

"Okay," Martha agreed, curling up under her covers. "Clark and I will sleep." She turned to her son. "Clark, you have to be quiet, okay? Maamaa needs lots of rest."

Clark just smiled and cuddled up next to his mother. Jonathan left to get to work, and Martha settled down under her covers.

"Brrrrr!" she shivered aloud. "Clark, I'm cold. Are you cold? Is Daddy trying to save on the heating bill again?"

Clark's little head popped up. "Maamaa cold? Maamaa need blankie?"

Martha laughed. "I'd love a blankie, Clark."

Clark smiled happily, then climbed out of his parents' bed and toddled off down the hall and toward the linen closet where his mother kept the extra blankies. Martha lay back and rested her eyes; exactly three seconds later, she opened them up again.

Clark was standing right by her bedside, holding out a knit blanket and smiling. "Maamaa," he commented.

Martha blinked. She'd only closed her eyes for _a few seconds_, hadn't she? Had she jumped into some sort of time warp? How on earth had Clark been able to fetch her a blanket that quickly?

"Uhhh…thank you, Clark, honey." Martha managed a smile, accepted the blanket from Clark, and settled back into bed. Clark climbed in right beside her, and snuggled up next to his mother once again.

Martha felt her own forehead. Was she still running a fever? Had her medication caused her to black out for a minute or two?

Clark was fast asleep in no time, happy next to his mommy, but Martha couldn't sleep.

She couldn't take her mind off Clark.


	3. The Worried Mother

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Smallville or its characters.

**Author's Note**: I wanted to continue toddler Clark's adventures by writing a story about his parents discovering Clark's super speed. This is my effort.

* * *

That evening, Jonathan served his wife a bowl of soup for dinner. Martha sat up in bed as her husband presented chicken noodle soup to her on a wooden tray.

"Jonathan!" she exclaimed quietly. "I didn't know you could cook!"

Jonathan laughed. "I can't. It's just Campbells' heated up on the stove."

"At least you're not giving me takeout pizza."

"No, that's for Clark. He's eating downstairs at the table."

"_Jonathan_!"

"Martha, you know I'm kidding. He's having soup too. I told him that only sick mommies are allowed to eat upstairs." Martha smiled as her husband gave her a kiss on the cheek.

There was a long pause. "Jonathan," Martha said quietly at last, stirring her soup without eating anything. "I…I think we need to call my doctor. I think my medicine is causing me to black out."

"Why do you say that, honey?" Jonathan pushed back a lock of his wife's hair.

Martha explained what had happened that morning with Clark and the blanket.

Jonathan smiled. "I wouldn't worry, Martha. Like you said, it's probably just your medicine causing you to doze off. If it happens again, we'll just call your doctor and tell him to get you off those pills."

Martha nodded. "But Jonathan, I've been thinking. We know Clark is allergic to those meteor rocks, and we know he has extreme strength. What if he has even more abilities that we're not aware of yet?"

"What, like the ability to move faster than the speed of light? That's impossible, Martha."

"Well, we thought it would be impossible for a three-year-old to maim a cow by milking it too hard, but that's been proven," Martha pointed out.

"Sweetheart, _stop worrying_, okay? Everything's going to be all right."

* * *

After eating his dinner, Clark was bathed and changed into his pajamas. He went to his parents' bedroom and asked his mother for his "eat," but was disappointed to learn she hadn't made any desserts.

"Mommy hasn't had time to do anything, sport. She's been too busy resting," Jonathan told his son, sitting on his bed and ruffling his son's hair. "When you've spent as much time in the hospital as your mother has, you'd be in bed this much, too."

"Tonight, honey, have Daddy pour you a sippy cup of milk and prepare you a bowl of fruit," Martha soothed her son, holding Clark close and stroking his brow. "Tomorrow I'll have him run to the bakery for a cake or a pie."

Clark didn't understand every word that his mother said, but her soothing tone calmed him. "Slee Maamaa?" he asked quietly, looking up at her.

"Can you sleep with Maamaa? I don't know, sweetheart," Martha said gently.

"Daadaa's not even sleeping with Maamaa, son. He's sleeping in the guest room so that Maamaa can have the bed to herself. She needs her rest," Jonathan said to his son gently.

Martha smiled at her husband. "Honey, I don't see the harm in allowing him to sleep in our bed tonight. At his age, it's very hard to go without Mommy for several days. He's probably going to be clinging to me for a while."

Jonathan nodded. "Okay. I guess it's all right for him to sleep with Mommy." He turned to his son. "Hear that, Clark? Daadaa's letting you sleep with Maamaa tonight. What do we do before bed every night?"

"Stowy," Clark said shyly. It was how he pronounced "story."

"Before our bedtime story, son. In the bathroom."

"Clark go potty."

"And?" Jonathan pressed.

"Clark tee."

"Clark brushes his teeth. Very good." Jonathan picked up Clark, set him down on the bedroom floor, and patted him on the back. "Off to the bathroom to go potty, son. Daddy will go downstairs to make you that bowl of fruit Mommy promised. Then we'll brush your teeth and put you to bed with your story."

Clark smiled gleefully and toddled off toward the bathroom. Jonathan headed downstairs to the kitchen.

Martha sat up in bed and started to work on her knitting. She heard the toilet flush in the bathroom, and the sink run...and then, she heard some kind of soft ZZZZOOOOOOOOM sound.

Seconds later, she heard Clark giggling from his bedroom.


	4. Working in the Barn

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Smallville or its characters.

**Author's Note**: I wanted to continue toddler Clark's adventures by writing a story about his parents discovering Clark's super speed. This is my effort.

* * *

Jonathan, asleep in the guest room, woke up to find Clark snoozing right next to him.

"Hey, little guy! I thought you were sleeping with Mommy last night!"

"Clark slee Maamaa," Clark confirmed. "Then Clark go potty, and slee Daadaa."

Jonathan laughed. "So you took turns." He gave his son a kiss on the nose. "Is Mommy still in bed?"

Clark nodded. "Maamaa slee. Clark need eat."

"Okay, well, we'll get Clark something to eat. And then we'll go out to the barn and get to work, okay?"

"'Kay, Daadaa."

Jonathan tiptoed into his bedroom and changed into jeans and a plaid shirt. Poor Martha was still asleep in bed, her nightstand littered with medicines. He smoothed out her blankets, kissed her on the forehead, and headed to Clark's room, where he changed Clark into tiny jeans and a blue t-shirt.

Next stop was the kitchen, where Jonathan poured his son a glass of orange juice and fed him toast for breakfast. Clark was used to his mother's full plates of bacon, eggs, pancakes, and home fries; toast was the only breakfast food Jonathan knew how to make.

"I know you miss Mommy's breakfasts, Clark, but just give Mommy a few more days," Jonathan begged as Clark looked down at his toast, bored. "Eat your toast like a good boy."

Clark dutifully ate his toast and drank his juice, then walked with his father out to the barn, where Jonathan sat down to milk the cows. Clark wasn't allowed to milk the cows (long story.) Instead, he collected the pitchers of milk from his father.

After each cow was milked, Clark helped his father unload bags of feed from the truck and stack them in the barn. Heavy lifting was certainly something that Clark could do.

"And after we unload the feed, son, Daddy is going to fix the tractor, so you should go inside and play for a while. Okay?"

"'Kay, Daadaa," Clark said diligently, carrying a 50-pound bag of feed on top of his head, holding it up with both hands. Jonathan simply couldn't get over how strong the kid was.

Clark finally pitched the last bag of feed on top of the pile in the barn. "Clark play now, Daadaa?"

"Of course, son. Here, let me walk you back to the house."

"Clark go," Clark shrugged. He started to run back to the house.

Jonathan, a little apprehensive, watched his son had back. "CLARK, BE CAREFUL!" he yelled after him.

Clark picked up momentum in his little legs. With a soft ZZZZOOOOOOOOOOM sound, Clark virtually vanished from Jonathan's sight.

Jonathan blinked. He reached down and pinched his forearm in complete disbelief. _Did I just see what I think I just saw_? he asked himself in alarm. _Did Clark just…run at lightning speed?_

**Is Martha right?**

* * *

A little while later, Martha woke up to a breakfast of hot tea and plain toast, served to her by her husband.

"Honey, you'll never believe what I just saw." He paused. "Okay, so I think maybe you _will _believe it. But I don't think that medicine is causing you to hallucinate."

"What do you mean?"

Jonathan took a deep breath. "When Clark and I got done unloading feed, he took off towards the house to play. He was running, and then there was this 'zoom' sound, and then he just…_disappeared_! So I started off towards the house, and when I got here, he was up in his room, playing. Just as happy as ever."

Martha took a sip of tea, trying to calm her nerves. "So…you think Clark has the ability to move at a super speed?"

"After what I just saw, Martha, I think so. And I know I wasn't hallucinating." There was a pause.

"Well," said Martha quietly. "What do you think? Did you want to have a talk with our little boy?"


	5. A Conversation with Clark

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Smallville or its characters.

**Author's Note**: I wanted to continue toddler Clark's adventures by writing a story about his parents discovering Clark's super speed. This is my effort.

* * *

Jonathan and Martha were still discussing Clark's ability to run at super speed…an ability their son had, or so they thought.

"Well?" asked Martha quietly. "What do you think? Did you want to have a talk with our little boy?"

Jonathan laughed. "With all due respect, Martha, most of the time Clark doesn't understand a word we're saying. Unless it involves eating, sleeping, or playing, I don't think he gets it."

"He _is_ our little boy, Jonathan. It's worth a try."

Jonathan sighed. "Okay."

"Clark, honey! Come to Mommy!" Martha called in the direction of Clark's room. In a matter of seconds, Jonathan and Martha heard Clark toss his toys to the floor and paddle his little feet towards his parents' room. Jonathan moved Martha's breakfast tray as Martha held out her arms toward her son. Clark bounded onto his parents' bed and eagerly settled himself in his mother's lap.

"How has your day been, Clark, sweetie?" Martha cooed, brushing Clark's hair back from his brow. "Helping Daadaa with chores?"

Clark smiled. "Clark love Daadaa."

"Daadaa loves you, honey, and Maamaa does too," Martha cooed, giving her son a kiss on the cheek. "What did you do after chores, honey? Did you come back inside and play?"

"Clark play," the little boy confirmed.

"Daadaa said you were running back to the house very fast. So fast he couldn't keep up with you!"

"Clark play," Clark repeated.

Martha paused and thought. "Clark, sweetheart, I know you like to play," she told him gently. "But we don't run unless Maamaa or Daadaa say it's okay, all right? Otherwise, Clark's a bad boy. We don't want Clark to be a bad boy, do we?"

Clark shook his head. "Clark _good boy_!"

"That's right, Clark's a good boy," Martha smiled, squeezing her son tight. "So be a good boy and no more running, okay, sweetie pie?"

"Clark play now?"

Martha looked back at Jonathan, who had his shoulders shrugged, as if to say, _I give up, Martha._

Martha turned back to Clark and smiled. "Yes, Clark can go play now. Play quietly, honey."

"'Kay, Maamaa." Clark hopped down from his mother's lap and paddled his little feet back to his room.

Jonathan sighed and sat down on the bed beside his wife. "I know he wouldn't be able to understand, Martha."

"Well, we tried. What else can we do except tell him to stop doing it until he _can_ have a sophisticated conversation with us?"

Jonathan nodded. "Yep."

Martha lay back in bed and thought. She was desperate to change the topic. "Sweetie, did you remember to pick something up for Clark's dessert tonight? A cake or a pie?"

"I'll head to the bakery this afternoon."

"And the laundry is piling up. You might want to do a load or two. And I hope you're washing the dishes! When I'm finally allowed to get out of this bed, I want a clean kitchen," Martha teased her husband.

Jonathan laughed. "I wish Clark was old enough to do more chores. I'd put that kid to work."

"When he's old enough, you can give him all the chores you want. You could retire early, and he can run the farm himself, doing all of the work at lightning speed." There was a pause.

"I'm glad your appendicitis hasn't taken away your humor," her husband replied with a smile.


	6. Maamaa and Daadaa Think

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Smallville or its characters.

**Author's Note**: OMG. This chapter was hard to write.

* * *

Life in the Kent household was slowly beginning to get back to normal over the next few days. Martha found herself getting out of bed each morning to perform light chores, make sandwiches for lunch, and then settle back into bed for a nap in the afternoon—Clark usually napping right beside her. She still couldn't muster up the energy to cook an evening meal or do some serious baking, though.

"It's okay, honey. Appendicitis is no small matter. Your doctors told you it would take you a month to fully recover," Jonathan told his wife quietly, tucking her into bed after a long day.

Martha yawned and nodded. "You'd better tell Clark to hurry up and say goodnight to me. I'm going to be out like a light in minutes."

"Clark! Hurry up and say goodnight to Mommy!" Jonathan yelled in Clark's direction. Clark was downstairs eating the pie that Jonathan had bought earlier in the day.

"Clark potty!" came little Clark's call from the bathroom.

In a couple of minutes, Clark toddled into his parents' bedroom and climbed up onto his parents' bed. He was wearing his pajamas and carrying his teddy bear. Tossing his teddy bear up onto his parents' bed, he climbed up and burrowed into the bedsheets beside his mother.

"Whoa, whoa!" Jonathan laughed. "What, are we sleeping with Mommy tonight?"

"Clark slee Maamaa," Clark affirmed, wrapping his arms around his mother. Martha laughed and kissed Clark on the forehead.

"I know you love your Mommy, Clark, but it's important to learn to sleep on your own. I want you in your own bed tonight, little man." Jonathan pointed towards Clark's room.

Clark looked heartbroken.

"Clark, I'm going to be right here tomorrow morning when you wake up. I promise." Martha kissed her son again; she loved it when her son slept right beside her, but Jonathan had a point. Clark couldn't be dependent on his parents his entire life. "Have you finished your pie, Clark? Is Clark done eating?"

"Clark eat, then Clark potty," the toddler confirmed.

"Well, it sounds like Clark has to brush his teeth and head to bed." Jonathan picked up his son and set him on the bedroom floor. "Come on, off to the bathroom. Daddy will brush your teeth and tuck you in."

After Clark kissed his mother goodnight, he headed off to the bathroom with his father, where Jonathan helped him brush his teeth. After he had been tucked in, Jonathan returned to his own bedroom and started to change into his pajamas.

"Martha, I have an idea," he told his wife, who was already half-asleep in bed. "Remember when we thought that Clark was allergic to the meteor rocks, so we kind of tested him? You know, just to _make sure_ that he was allergic?"

"Yeah," Martha murmured.

"Well, I've been thinking about Clark's super speed, and what we've witnessed so far. Before we decide to ignore this problem and just tell Clark to control himself until he's older, how about we give him a little test first? You know, to see if he can really do it, or if you and I were just imagining things?"

"That sounds like a good idea. But Jonathan, we've both seen him do it—or, you have, I could have been blanking out—and then we _tried_ to talk to him about it, but we couldn't get anything across to him. How has testing him for this ability going to change what we've already done?"

"I don't know, Martha," Jonathan admitted, sighing. "But something inside of me is telling me that before we completely ignore this, we need to at least _attempt_ to approach it as a family. Who knows? Maybe after exploring Clark's abilities with him together, he'll find it easier to talk to us about them."

Martha nodded as her husband climbed into bed beside her. "I'm really confused, Jonathan," she admitted quietly after a pause. "I love Clark so much, and it's hard to raise him and talk about serious things with him—like his abilities—when he's this little."

"I know, Martha." Jonathan felt for his wife's hand and squeezed it through the bedsheets. "I love Clark too, and he's a good kid. We'll find a way."


	7. Baby's First Haircut

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Smallville or its characters.

* * *

Martha awoke the next morning to find Clark snoozing between her and Jonathan. "Clark bad dree," he moaned.

"It's bad _dream_, sweetheart. But don't worry, Mommy's here for you."

Martha dressed Clark and went downstairs to fix him some breakfast while he used the potty. Clark was very happy at seeing a homemade breakfast from Maamaa, and ate his entire plate of eggs and bacon.

"Good boy," Martha smiled. "Speaking of eating, what does Clark want after his dinner tonight for dessert? Cookies? Pie?"

"Clark need Maamaa cookie."

"Maamaa's cookies it is!"

Feeling better than she had in days, Martha put Clark in his room to play while she showered and dressed. _Jonathan's in the barn milking, the sun's shining, and I feel good_, Martha smiled as she finished brushing her teeth, picked up her purse, and went to Clark's room to fetch him for some errands. _This is the way life should be_.

First, Martha and Clark stopped at the drugstore so Martha could get a refill on one of her prescriptions. Next, they headed to the Beanery where Martha bought a bag of coffee beans for Jonathan's morning coffee. On their way back to the car, holding Clark's little hand and helping him walk along, Martha and Clark passed the hairdresser.

Martha ran her hands through Clark's mop of hair. His brown hair was definitely unruly, that was for sure; not nearly as manageable as Jonathan's soft blonde locks. "Clark, honey," she smiled down at her son. "I think it's time for baby's first haircut."

When Clark looked confused, Martha picked her son up in her arms and carried him into the hairdresser's. She explained to the beautician—Barbara, the one that usually helped her with her own hair—that her son, Clark, needed a more manageable haircut.

"EEEEE!" Clark squealed, kicking, as Barbara picked him up and set him down in her chair in front of the mirror. He wasn't used to strangers holding him.

"It's okay, Clark, sweetie," Martha smiled at her son. "This won't hurt. We're trying to help Clark become a handsome man, like Daadaa."

Barbara ruffled Clark's tuft of fluffy dark hair with both hands. "How do we want to do this, Martha? Short and cropped?"

"Yep. It's so messy and uncontrollable at the top of his head. Make him a good-looking man." Martha stood to the side of the mirror, where Clark could see her. She smiled warmly at her son. "Just stay still, Clark. Barbara's going to make you all nice and cute."

Clark looked uneasy and squirmed as Barbara tied a plastic cloak around him, wet his hair with a squirt bottle and began to comb through. Martha knew just what he needed; she reached out and reached for her son's hand through the cloak. "Relax, Clark," she said to her son soothingly. "Just relax."

* * *

"Daadaa!" Clark called out as Martha pulled in next to the house. He looked very cute with his new haircut; his unruly mop had been buzzed short, but his hair was still thick enough for Martha to run her hands through.

Jonathan emerged from the barn, wearing his usual uniform of jeans and a plaid shirt, just as Martha was unbuckling Clark from his child car seat. Martha set Clark on the ground, and Clark began to toddle over to his father. "Daadaa!" Clark called out excitedly. "Maamaa make Clark good!"

Martha laughed. "Clark got his first haircut."

"Come on over, son!" Jonathan exclaimed. "Let Daddy see his handsome little man!" He crouched down to Clark's level and held out his arms.

"Go on, sweetie! _Run_ to Daddy!" Martha encouraged Clark, bending down to pat him on the shoulder. This was a perfect opportunity to test Clark's speed. "_Go fast_! Daddy _really_ wants to see you!" Hopefully Clark would get the message.

Clark started out at a mild toddle, but ran faster and faster until…..ZZZZZOOOOOOOOM. All of a sudden, he was lost in a blur and had reappeared at his father's side.

Jonathan hugged his son and ran a hand through Clark's new haircut. Then he looked across the yard at his wife, who stared right back at him.

Jonathan and Martha didn't speak to each other, but they didn't need to. They were both thinking the same thing: _Yep. He has super speed_.


	8. Clark and Maamaa are Frightened

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Smallville or its characters.

* * *

Clark had a great day. After eating his dinner, the toddler splashed around in the bathtub while Daadaa scrubbed him clean, and happily ate all of the cookies that Maamaa served him for dessert. Finally, he obediently sat still while Daadaa brushed his teeth, and settled into bed after going potty.

"Maamaa loves you, Clark," Martha cooed, squeezing Clark's teddy bear.

"Daadaa loves you too, Clark." Jonathan added, running a hand through his son's hair.

"Clark love Maamaa Daadaa," Clark gurgled.

Martha squeezed Jonathan's hand. Hearing her son tell her that he loved her was the favorite part of Martha's day, bar none.

After tucking Clark in and cleaning up the kitchen, Martha went upstairs, took her appendicitis medicine, and changed into her nightgown. Jonathan, already in his plaid pajamas, was settling in bed.

"I'm nervous, Jonathan," Martha said, snuggling in bed beside her husband. "I mean, first we find out that Clark is allergic to those meteor rocks—which was abnormal from the start—and then we find out that his strength is spectacular-"

"Which isn't _that_ abnormal, considering everything we're reading about in the paper these days," Jonathan muttered. It was true; the newspapers and tabloids were all writing incredible stories about people who had developed strange abilities ever since the meteor shower.

"—and now he has outstanding speed?" Martha asked, confused. "I'm really scared, Jonathan!"

"He's just a special kid, Martha. He's not from around here. He could be from a different country, or even a whole other planet. That… _package _down in the storm cellar tells us that!" A large metal object that looked like a spaceship was currently sitting down in the Kents' storm cellar. It had been found near Clark shortly after the meteor shower. "But he's just a kid. He needs his parents. No matter what his abilities, he's our little boy," Jonathan continued. "We just need to raise him right and teach him to only use his abilities in certain situations. That's all."

Martha nodded. "Do you think he has any more abilities that we don't know of yet?"

"I don't know, but let's just take this one step at a time," her husband said gently. "He may have tantrums once in a while—like the time he banged his fists on the kitchen table demanding more cookies, and ended up destroying the table, remember?—but overall, Clark's a good son."

"MAAMAA!"

Clark ran into his parents' bedroom, looking spooked, and climbed up onto his parents' bed. He squeezed his mother.

"What's wrong, son?" Jonathan asked his little boy quietly.

"Clark…Clark scared Maamaa been took," Clark sobbed. Tears were running down his little cheeks.

Martha laughed and hugged her son. "Honey, Maamaa's not going anywhere. Maamaa was sick when those men took her away. She had tummy problems, and couldn't get to the hospital by herself. Those nice men were just helping her out!"

"Maamaa's not leaving us unless she's sick or hurt," Jonathan told his son, scratching Clark's hair. "Speaking of health, Maamaa and Daadaa need our sleep, Clark. Back to bed."

Clark sniffled. "But…but Clark need Maamaa. Clark need sure Maamaa here."

"I'll be right here when you wake up tomorrow, Clark. I promise."

* * *

The next day was very windy. Clark listened to the wind howl as he ate the oatmeal his mother had made him for breakfast. He wanted to eat breakfast with Maamaa and Daadaa, but they were too busy arguing over near the stove.

"Jonathan, you are _not_ getting up on that ladder to repair the barn roof today. _Listen_ to that wind out there!"

"I can have Clark hold the ladder for me. He's a strong kid."

"Jonathan, I refuse to subject Clark to this. You're not going to get on that ladder. You're just going to have to repair the barn roof tomorrow."

"Martha, the barn roof _cannot_ wait another day. It's going to rain this afternoon, and another rainstorm will make the leaking even worse!"

"At least no one has a chance of getting hurt!"

"What if the roof shall _cave in_? _What will we do then_?"

Martha sighed. Jonathan was being stubborn as usual. "Fine," she said, throwing up her arms and going back to pouring herself a bowl of oatmeal for breakfast. "But I'm coming out there too. I'm going to watch."

"Fine!"


	9. Clark No Help

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Smallville or its characters.

* * *

Clark was dressed in overalls and a t-shirt, and bundled up in a little jacket. Martha was placing a knit cap on his newly-buzzed hair as Jonathan dragged the ladder out of the barn.

"I still say this is a mistake," Martha sighed, shaking her head from her vantage point near the fence across from the barn doors.

"Martha, we _have_ to do this. Today. Or else the barn roof is going to cave in, and it's going to cost us money we don't have to replace it!" Jonathan propped the ladder up against the side of the barn. The wind was blowing so hard that he was having trouble holding onto it.

Martha sighed. She placed Clark down on the ground, told him to not to move, and went over to the barn, where she tried to hold the ladder still so that Jonathan could climb up to the roof.

"Once I get up onto the roof, it'll be okay," Jonathan grunted as he struggled to hold the ladder in place and climb up to the roof at the same time.

Martha sighed again as she watched him struggle, and shook her head. Why did Jonathan have to be so stubborn? She loved the man dearly, but she thought he would have learned his lesson a while ago after he broke a few ribs and then almost collapsed while milking the cows- after his doctor told him specifically not to do any work.

Jonathan was biting his lip as he neared the roof. He was almost there, and breathed a quiet sigh of relief; he was going to make it! The gutter was in sight—it was right in arm's reach—

- and along came another giant gust of wind.

Martha struggled to hold onto the ladder, but it was too much for her. The metal ladder slipped right out of her hands, and plummeted sideways toward the ground. Jonathan went into a free fall.

Martha screamed. She didn't even have time to think, but within a few seconds, little Clark had used his super speed to zoom right over to his father. Holding out his arms, he attempted to catch his father from the fall, but only succeeded in allowing his tiny body to grasp onto his father's legs. The rest of Jonathan crashed onto the ground.

Jonathan seemed to be unconscious, and Clark's eyes watered up with tears. He began to cry. "_Daadaa hurt_!" Clark blubbered, setting his father's legs down on the ground and wiping his tears. "_Clark no help!"_

"What do you mean, Clark no help? Clark was a _big_ help!" Martha took her son in her arms and gave him a giant hug. "Clark saved Daadaa from a _much worse_ injury! Just wait until Clark's a little bigger; you'll be able to stop _all_ of Daadaa from hitting the ground." Martha kissed her son, set him down, and bent over her husband. She lifted up his wrist and felt for a pulse; it was there. Gently, she ran her hand across Jonathan's brow. "Jonathan?" she whispered. "Are you all right? Should I call for an ambulance?"

For a while there was nothing, until Jonathan's eyes fluttered open. "Yes," was all he managed to croak out before going unconscious again.

* * *

Clark hadn't taken well to the ambulance. As the EMTs had lifted his adoptive father onto a stretcher, he had started to scream that his father was "being took." He even got away from his mother and grabbed onto the leg of one of the paramedics.

"Owww…OWWWW!" the medic yelled as Clark was grabbing onto his leg and pulling hard.

"NO TAKE DAADAA!" Clark cried, tears rolling down his cheeks.

"Clark…_Clark_!" Martha managed to untangle her son from the medic's leg, and held Clark in her arms. "Clark, Daadaa's being taken to the hospital. That's where we go if we're sick or hurt, remember? They took Maamaa there to fix her up a few weeks ago, and they brought Maamaa back! She was much better!" She hugged Clark. "Come on, sweetie, let's follow along in the truck. Daadaa will be fine, just you wait and see."

Clark's expression was numb. Martha picked him up and carried him back to the house so she could fetch the keys to Jonathan's truck.

_Why is it that every time we find out Clark has a new ability, Jonathan seems to get hurt?_ Martha wondered on her way back to the house. _I don't blame Clark for being scared, that's for sure!_

Clark seemed to be less scared as he realized his mother was following right behind the ambulance. "Maamaa?" he asked from his little child seat in the back of the truck. "We go to save Daadaa?"

Martha laughed. "Yes, Clark. We're saving Daadaa."


	10. Clark Finds Daadaa

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Smallville or its characters.

**Author's Note**: After this, I think there's only going to be one more chapter of this story. Things are starting to wrap up. _Thank you all_ for your continued support!

* * *

Clark looked confused as his mother pulled into the parking lot at the Smallville Medical Center emergency room. "Maamaa?" he questioned his mother as Martha parked the truck and helped him out of his child seat. "Daadaa here?"

"Yep, Daadaa's here."

"Why, Maamaa? Clark thought…Clark thought Daadaa was took!"

"He was, honey! He was taken _to the hospital_! That's what Maamaa's been trying to explain to you!" _Clark, you silly goose_, Martha thought to herself. She couldn't get over this immense fear Clark had with his parents "being took."

Martha carried Clark inside, and asked about her husband, Jonathan Kent. After being told that Jonathan was being examined by the doctor, Martha took Clark into the waiting room. Clark amused himself with a pile of children's books that had been set in the corner. After picking out a book with a picture of a puppy on the cover, he toddled back over to Martha. "Maamaa read Clark?"

"Okay, Maamaa will read to Clark. Come up and sit on Maamaa's lap."

Seven hundred books later (or so it seemed for Martha,) a nurse came out and asked Martha if she wanted to see her husband.

"Your husband's going to be all right," the nurse told Martha as they walked through the halls of the hospital, Martha helping Clark along. "He just threw his back out, and he's in traction. He's going to be here for a couple of days."

Martha turned to her son. "Hear that, honey? Daadaa's going to be all right!" Clark smiled.

Jonathan was propped up in bed, his back resting on what looked like a thick cushion. He looked very tired, but smiled when he saw his wife and son.

"Daadaa!" Clark exclaimed, and held out his arms for his father. Martha lifted him up onto the edge of his father's bed, but warned that his father couldn't hug him; his back hurt too much. Clark just reached out a hand toward his father; Jonathan took it tenderly in his.

"How are you, Jonathan? You look exhausted," Martha said quietly.

"They gave me so many painkillers that I'm struggling to stay awake," he moaned softly.

Martha kissed him gently on the cheek. "They say you're going to be here for a few days," she said quietly.

Jonathan sighed. "Well, it's not like I can do a lot of work on the farm anyway. Not with a bad back." He smiled at Clark. "But I would be hurt a lot worse if you hadn't helped me, Clark. You saved Daadaa's life."

"You were such a good boy, helping Daadaa," Martha cooed, bringing her son in for a hug.

Clark smiled in his mother's arms. "Clark good boy."

"That's right. Clark's a very good boy." Jonathan yawned. "These pills are knocking me out, Martha."

"You need your rest, honey. Clark and I will go home and come back to visit later. Do you want me to bring you anything?"

Jonathan smiled. "Bring enough cookies for Clark and I. If I can't give him his bath, we'll at least share a bedtime snack. Won't we, Clark?"

"Clark love eat," Clark smiled. Jonathan and Martha both laughed.

Martha said goodbye to Jonathan, and helped Clark give his father a goodbye kiss. Jonathan fell asleep as Martha left the hospital with Clark.

"See, Clark?" Martha said to her son as she carried him outside to the truck so they could drive home. "You shouldn't be afraid when strange men come to the farm to take Daadaa away. They could be bringing him here to the hospital, so he can get better. Daadaa was very hurt."

"Clark…Clark no lose Maamaa Daadaa," Clark whimpered back to his mother.

"You're not going to lose us, honey," Martha promised him. "Not with abilities like yours!"

Clark simply smiled. "Clark good boy," he told himself once more.


	11. Life is Good

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Smallville or its characters.

**Author's Note**: So I always try to end my Little Clark stories with a fluffy family moment between Jonathan, Martha, and Clark…something to make us all say, "Awwww."

* * *

Getting Jonathan home was tricky. He was strapped into a back brace, still very much in pain, and he had been ordered to lie low in bed until further notice. This time, Jonathan didn't attempt to fight his doctors; his back hurt so much that he waved the white flag of defeat.

Martha helped her husband upstairs and into bed. "We're keeping the brace on, right?"

"Until my back feels better," Jonathan admitted. "It feels so stiff though, Martha."

"It's okay. You're going to be all right."

"Clark here!" Clark announced, showing up in his parents' doorway. Once again, he had changed from his jeans and t-shirt that Martha had dressed him in that morning back into his pajamas. He had put them on inside out, and buttoned them all wrong. He carried his pillow. "Clark sleep with Daadaa!"

Martha laughed. "Clark, honey, you can sleep with Daadaa, but you have to stay on Maamaa's side of the bed, okay? Daadaa needs a lot of space to rest. His back really hurts."

"'Kay, Maamaa." Clark tossed his pillow onto his mother's side of the bed, then climbed up onto the bed and latched onto his father's arm. "Niiii, Maamaa!"

Martha smiled and ruffled her son's buzzed hair. "Goodnight, little Clark. Sleep tight, my sweet little miracle." She bent down to kiss him. "Goodnight, darling," she called over to her husband.

"Rest for a few minutes with us, Martha," Jonathan encouraged her gently. "Just squeeze in beside Clark. We're a family."

Martha climbed into bed beside her son and held him tight against her, giving Jonathan his space. It felt kind of good to rest, especially after having to handle the farm all by herself since Jonathan had been taken to the hospital. Martha found herself dozing off and closing her eyes.

"Maamaa?" Clark asked her.

"Hmmm?"

"What's meer-cool?"

Martha laughed. "What's that, honey?"

"Maamaa said Clark her meer-cool."

"You're our _miracle_, sweetie. Maamaa and Daadaa thought that we couldn't have any children, but then you came along." Martha stroked her son's hair. "You're our little miracle. You're our little baby."

Clark snuggled closer to his mother. "Clark meer-cool," he repeated, smiling.

Clark felt his mother wrapping her arms around him; his mother's grasp was so warm and comforting, and his tiny hands were clutched in his father's larger, gentler one. Daadaa was already asleep, breathing heavily. Maamaa was singing a lullaby.

Life was good.

THE END


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